


Devil Got You Good This Time

by mendeshoney



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mendeshoney/pseuds/mendeshoney
Summary: “my baby falls asleep, in his bed, fingertips, on the edge…bet he regrets leaving me”





	Devil Got You Good This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: NSFW, edging, mentions of cheating, exes, unprotected sex, slightly sub!Shawn, not really a happy ending
> 
> A/N: Madison Beer fucks me all the way up. This is fourteen Google Doc pages of I don’t know what.

You wish you were strong enough to crush the shot glass in your hand.

Immediately your body tenses at the hand on your lower back, the familiar touch no longer inviting. You know it’s him for sure when he bends to whisper a short “hi honey” in your ear to be heard over the loud music. 

Instantly, you push off of where you were leaning against the bar top and inch away from him, putting distance between the two of you. He frowns when you turn to face him, an unreadable expression on your face.

Six months ago, his sadness at your distance would’ve twisted your heart, made you want to kiss the expression from his face till his laughter filled your ears again.

But not this time.

His frown doesn’t affect you.  _ **He**_  doesn’t affect you. Not anymore.

“You look great.” He says lamely, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You do your best not to roll your eyes. “Yeah well, what’s that people say about dropping relationship weight? Six months away from you after you cheated on me kind of helps.”

He visibly winces at your sharp words. You don’t care about the pleasantries, about his feelings.

Why should you? He didn’t care about yours.

You toss your hair over your shoulder and take a seat on a barstool, keeping one between the two of you as you continue to clutch your shot glass. You signal for another shot to the bartender.

Your oblivious ex takes a seat himself, facing you with a determined expression. “I’m sorry.”

The apology definitely isn’t what you were expecting, so you face him with a raised brow, eyeing him up and down. Admittedly, he looks good too - of course he does, he always does - but it doesn’t matter when he’s not yours. 

No matter how much every primal instinct in you tells you to kiss him square on the mouth, your brain is telling you to slap him.

You resist the urge to do either.

“Bit late for an apology, don’t you think, Shawn?”

He purses his lips, eyes casting downward. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You scoff. “Bit late for that, too.” The bartender brings over two shots and you down them both easily. You were here for a good time, not a long time, and if that was still going to stand, you needed as much alcohol as possible.

And for Shawn to am-scray. And to stop making you  _ **feel**  _things.

You turn to him. “Well, this reunion was nice, but I’ve got to go.”

Without another word, you turn back toward the dance floor, weaving your way around until you’re deep into the sea of bodies. Your friends are around here somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to care enough to find them right now. Seeing Shawn was the last thing you wanted, and all you needed right now was for the vodka to kick in so you could actually enjoy this night.

Six months ago, Shawn had just finished tour, and you wanted to give him time to relax and rest up and be with his family before he saw you again. So you kept communication to texts and calls, but after a week, you decided it probably was enough time, and decided you’d surprise him at his place by stopping in to make him a home cooked meal.

You thought you were being cute - buying groceries and putting them in a nice bag, wearing brand new lavender lingerie underneath leggings and a cute knit sweater. You even thought he’d want nothing more than to be with you after so much time apart. You thought he’d want to fuck your brains out on every surface in his apartment.

The latter of which you were half right about.

He fucked on every surface in his apartment.

He just didn’t fuck  _ **you**_.

And you found that out standing in his doorway, the spare key he’d given you to his place still in the lock as you took in the sight of him sitting stark naked on his couch, some random girl on top of him as she moaned and cooed with his cock inside her.

You dropped the bags in your hand, hearing the glass jars break satisfyingly at the contact with his hardwood floors.

Both of them turned to you, Shawn immediately trying to shove the girl off, but you were already on your heels, leaving his spare key in the door as you ran for the elevator.

He tried to come over to your place later that night - showed up at your doorstep with his tail between his legs, eyes bloodshot and face puffy from crying (which you never understood - this was  _ **his**_ choice, why fucking cry about it?)

Shawn had his hands stuffed in his pockets then, too. Shy and quiet as he begged to come in to talk to you, to apologize and explain.

“There’s nothing to explain.” You said. “You had your cock inside of her.  _ **You cheated.**  _And I told you that if you ever cheated on me that I’d be gone. And I am. You threw two good years down the fucking drain, Shawn. There’s nothing that you have to say that I want to hear.”

Slamming the door in his face that night felt good. You didn’t cry about it either.

“You never cry over a boy who doesn’t want you.” Your mother had said when you first got your heartbroken at sixteen. She was always stern and firm with you, her only baby. “If he makes any choice that puts you at the bottom, you kick him to the curb and claw your way to the top. You are not his expendable.  _ **You**_  are not expendable. And if he thinks you are, you make him regret it, and you make it hurt like hell.”

That had always stuck with you. You vowed to never let a boy get the best of you, no matter how much you loved him or didn’t want to lose what you had.

And even if Shawn was the man you thought you were going to marry, he was not the exception.

You’d found out not long after that he’d been seeing this girl multiple times - she was someone he met on the road who somehow was able to travel to all of these places to share his bed every once and awhile, and she followed him all the way home.

You missed him when he was away, you told him as much, but he clearly didn’t miss you. And now, six months post break up, the tables turned. You didn’t miss him at all, but he missed you a lot (even if you didn’t know it.)

But all the lies, the secrets kept in the dark when you didn’t share his bed - you definitely don’t miss that.

The thing you do miss - if there ever was anything to miss - was the sex. You hadn’t dared to find another person to be with, hadn’t dared sleep with anyone else. Shawn was just so  _ **good**_  to you. He knew your body better than you did. He made you feel things you didn’t think were possible. Every kiss, every touch - he drove you wild, and satisfying yourself wasn’t taking off the edge.

And seeing him here, tonight, looking the way he did, it was enough to make you  _ **want**_ , even if every rational part of you told you not to.

As the night goes on, somewhere in between dancing and making your way to the bar for last call, you indulge yourself in more alcohol, make your way back to the bar for one last cocktail, and this time when Shawn idles up beside you, the looseness in your body has you thinking crazy things.

In this light, you can see he’s filled out nicely - the gym’s definitely been treating him well - and that Tiffany’s attacked his curls more than once, because the shaggy look you saw him with last is gone, and left behind is his signature haircut.

He’s still as handsome as ever and that fucking smile he’s got has your body reacting to him like it used to.

Arousal pools in your stomach and you mentally slap yourself for thinking him to be enticing in any way.

“Having fun?” He asks, waiting for you to stop eyeing the bulge in his jeans long enough to look him the eye again.

You shrug. “Who knows.”

He turns so his head is close to your ear, his lips brushing against your shoulder when he says “you know I’m still yours. That hasn’t changed.”

You can tell he’s just as intoxicated as you are, which makes for a bad situation. Turning your head towards his, you say “But I’m not yours anymore. That’s changed.”

He growls, biting your shoulder playfully. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s  _ **your**_  fault.” You point out, taking the shot glass the bartender places in front of you and downing it.

“Let me make it up to you.” He says. “Let’s talk about this.”

You look up at him from under your lashes, putting on that innocent facade that you know he loves more than anything. “Talk? Or…” Your voice trails off as your eyes trail back down to his jeans.

He laughs, low and deep in his chest before he takes a shot of his own, slamming the glass onto the bar top before taking your hand and leading you out of the club and toward the curb, where he pulls up Uber and requests a car.

If this night goes the way you think it’s going to go, you know you’re not coming out of this miserable.

He wants to fuck? Fine. You’ll give him that. You’ll give him this night, give  ** _yourself_  **this night to get what you want from him, and then leave.

Kind of like he did with you.

By the way Shawn’s suddenly bouncing excitedly on his feet, he clearly thinks this is so you two can eventually get back together.

He doesn’t need to know you have another thing in mind.

You both climb into the Uber wordlessly, untangling your hand from his, only for him to take it back once you’re both in the seated in the back.

There’s a small part of you that admires his restraint. He doesn’t try anything in the car, and he keeps the contact to just holding your hand.

When you get to his place, you have to push down the overwhelming urge to cry. The last time you arrived at his building was the day you caught him cheating. You shared a lot of beautiful memories here with Shawn, memories over two years that he ruined in one single moment.

He seems to sense your discomfort as you both get out of the car, watching you as you stand on the sidewalk.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He says.

You wish you could slap him in the face. The bastard doesn’t even  _remember_ that this is where he broke your heart. He thinks this is about you not wanting to sleep with him.

He’s clearly made his bed and laid in its silk sheets quite comfortably.

If Shawn thought this was about getting back together, he had another thing coming.

You slip your hand in his this time, and he smiles, guiding you inside the building and to the elevator. You take your hand from his when the doors shut, leaning against the wall opposite of him, eyeing him once more.

His thighs looked delicious, straining against the fabric of his black jeans, and you could see under his denim jacket that his black shirt stretched perfectly across his broad chest, leaving nothing to your imagination.

When you look up at his face, finally, you can see he’s giving you the same once over. You in your favorite dress to wear out, your favorite heels, showing just enough skin that Shawn’s eyes haze over as he finally meets your gaze.

If you were sober, there’d be so much you want to say to him, to scream at him.

Perhaps another time.

Shawn pushes off the wall and makes his way across the small space to you, placing his hands on either side of you, resting them on the metal bar. You arch your back a little, moving into his space as he bends his head toward your shoulder, placing kisses there, trailing his lips to your neck and jaw.

Just as he’s going to kiss you on the lips, the elevator dings, signaling the arrival to his floor, and you smirk, pushing at his chest with both hands and escaping out through the little space he makes.

You wander down the hall and to his door, where the minute you’re in front of it, Shawn gently presses you against the wood, his front along your back, steadying you with a hand on your hip as he opens the door.

You bypass the couch, not even giving it a glance as you toe off your heels in his entryway and head straight for his bedroom. You approach the window, looking at the Toronto skyline, and you bury the part of you that misses being in this space.

Shawn joins you not long after, his jacket and shirt shed, belt missing from his jeans and his shoes and socks discarded somewhere behind him.

He hums appreciatively at you, wicked smirk on his face as he approaches you, brushing your hair off your shoulder, his hands rubbing your arms comfortingly. “I meant it earlier, when I said you look great.” He says, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Thank you,” You say quietly.

He backs up, giving you space to think to yourself, and when you finally convince yourself to go through with this, you turn back, finding him sitting on the bench at the foot of his bed. He waves you over, and you go to him, standing between his legs as his hands rest on the back of your thighs.

Shawn looks up at you fondly, and you play with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I hate when you get your haircut.”

He chuckles. “I had to.”

You tug on the curls, a satisfying smile coming to your face when his eyes flutter shut, chest vibrating with a small groan. “You never have to cut it. It’s cute when it’s long.”

He growls a little, hands grabbing at your ass as he pulls you closer. “I’ll show you cute.”

You’re tired of playing these games, so you shove his hands away and sink to your knees. Shawn’s lets out a little whine when you get your hands on the button of his jeans. He shimmies his jeans and boxer briefs down to his ankles, and you raise up a little on your knees, wasting no time in wrapping your hands around Shawn’s hard cock, and taking him into your mouth.

He sits up, hands flying to your hair and curses flying out of his mouth. “Fuck!”

You smile to yourself, pulling off so you can lick him from base to shaft, making sure to leave no patch of skin untouched. It’s been awhile since you’ve done this with him, so you give yourself a little time to adjust, taking him in as far as you can, pushing it little by little each time as you start to bob up and down on his cock, using one hand to stroke whatever you can’t fit, the other hand massaging his balls gently.

When you’ve finally adjusted after a few minutes, you pull off, stroking him a few times before circling your lips around his head, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you slowly take him as deep as possible, your nose buried in the short curls at the base, forehead resting against his lower abdomen.

Shawn lets out short, punched out breaths as he leans forward, curling over you and pressing your head down. He moans, loud enough that it fills the room as you gag a little as his hips buck, swearing and praising you at the same time, overwhelmed with pleasure. He leans back, letting you move freely now, and you do,

“Yeah, like that.” He laughs, gathering your hair in his fist, pushing the strays away from your face before running his fingers over your cheek, smiling at you fondly. “You’re so good to me.”

You smirk as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, before pulling up and off of him with a ‘pop.’ You can tell by the flush on his neck and cheeks that he’s close, so you go back for more, taking him deep before pulling up, using your hands to fill in the gaps, sucking and stroking at a steady rhythm.

Shawn starts to writhe, hips bucking up and that familiar look crosses his eyes. You look up at him and he groans, placing his hand under your chin as you suckle on his tip, sticking your tongue out to lick at the slit. “Your eyes, baby.” He moans. “Look at me, I wanna see you when I come in that pretty little mouth.”

 _ **That’s what you think,**  _you tell yourself. 

You go back to your ministrations, and in no time, Shawn’s arching up, head thrown back as his hands are in your hair. He gives you that tell tale sign that he’s about to come when he scratches gently at your scalp, and you pull off, leaving him panting and right on the edge.

Shawn’s eyes fly open and he’s sitting up, reaching for you and you skirt out of the way, standing up carefully.

He looks furious when he says “Why’d you stop? I was so close.”

You shrug, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “You’re only allowed to come  ** _inside_  **me, and I didn’t want you to come yet.”

He whines. You know that that’s his favorite thing to do - to fill you up as you come around him and he throbs inside you.

A wicked smile plays on his lips, and he tries to steady his breathing. “Alright baby. You’re in control.”

You smile. “Then prove it.”

He doesn’t hesitate - he scoots down the bench a little until his head is balanced on the end of the bed, and he pats his chest. “C’mon baby. I want that pretty pussy to take a seat on my face.”

With a satisfied sigh, you kick off the remainder of your clothes and climb up. You take a minute to straddle his hips, grinding along his cock, rubbing your arousal over it before you climb a little higher, straddling his face.

You don’t take a seat just yet, and Shawn cranes his neck a little, trying to get a taste, but you stop him with a gentle hand on his throat. “What do good boys say?”

He whines out a “please,” and you lower yourself onto his mouth, crying out at the first contact his tongue makes between your folds.

Another thing you missed - you taught him how to eat your pussy, and you taught him well. It was just another reminder that the boy could do things to you no other man could ever be capable of. And while you were going to miss him for sure, it wasn’t worth staying with a man who cheated on you without a second thought for your feelings.

You’re so keyed up, so sensitive to his touch, that when Shawn’s hands fly up, grabbing your boobs in his hand, toying with the nipples, you keen forward, grinding yourself onto his face.

It takes a minute for you to remember that you’re calling the shots, and you bat his hands away, pinning them to the bed above his head, using the new leverage to grind down on Shawn’s face, his tongue completely at your mercy. He’s going at you with messy and sloppy licks, and when he shakes his head between your legs, his tongue out for you to use, you nearly lose it.

You writhe and moan, can hear the sloppy sounds Shawn’s making from under you and you laugh to yourself, sweat beading on your forehead as you get closer to your own orgasm.

Suddenly, Shawn’s sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue poking at your entrance and you keen out, grinding down onto his face for more friction, then you’re coming with a shout, shaking from above him as he takes in everything you give him with a satisfied moan of his own.

You sit up then, climbing off of him and push at him until he gets the hint, laying down on the bench, his knees bent to accommodate his height. You resume your place on his face, settling your legs on either side of his head, leaning forward to reach for his cock before taking another appreciative lick.

“If you can make me come again,” you tease, kissing his shaft, “then I’ll let you fuck me.”

He makes an affirmative noise in his throat, chin tilting upwards to taste more of you as you take his cock down your throat again. You bob up and down as Shawn eagerly licks at your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth before dragging his tongue up and down your pussy, and when you start to move your hips, he moans in encouragement, placing his hands on your hips and pushing you down against his face.

“Use my face baby,” he says against your skin. And you do, grinding against him again, the slight stubble on his chin adding a brilliant friction that makes you moan around his cock. The vibrations shoot right through him, and he moans against you, bucking his hips up.

You pull off of him, stroking his cock with your hand when you ask “Are you going to come?”

You can feel him nodding between your legs and you take your hand off again, resting your hands on his thighs and watching as his cock bobs, resting against his stomach untouched, the skin a bright pink, nearly red color.

Shawn cries out in protest but you muffle it by sitting up, grinding against his face until his tongue has you coming on his mouth again, and Shawn - eager as always - drinks up all you have to offer.

When you’ve calmed down a little, you rearrange yourself so you’re facing him and straddling his lap, fingers resting on his throat as you smile at his face. His lips are red and bruised, face shiny with your orgasm, and he looks damn proud of himself.

“Did I do good baby?” He asks, and **_fuck_** , his  _ **voice**_. He sounds so perfectly wrecked, and it fills you with a sickening sense of smugness.

You two had great sex before, but it was nothing like this.

“Yes you did baby.” You say, leaning down to kiss him gently, squeezing his throat a little and he groans. You can feel his hips buck up from underneath you, and you take both hands, scratching lightly down his abs as his tongue slips past your lips, allowing you to taste yourself.

“In fact,” you murmur, “you did so good, I think you’ve earned yourself a little treat.”

You reach between you, guiding the head of his cock between your folds before you sink down on it, and Shawn’s hands are instantly at your hips, pulling you down until you can feel your clit brush against his pubic bone, and you moan, grinding on him.

He keeps his hands rested on your hips, lets you control the pace, allowing you to decide when you’re ready to go further. After a moment, you start to move, raising up a little before coming back down, and Shawn sighs happily, shutting his eyes as you ride him.

He’s just as thick as you remember, and the delicious stretch makes you cry out, winding your hands around his neck. He pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you as he sucks a bruise into your collar bone, marking you as his like he always used to.

_**Little does he know.** _

Shawn pulls you down to him to kiss your neck, playfully biting you in spots, and when his lips close around that sweet spot, sucking gently, your second orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, and you keep your hips moving until you catch your breath.

Shawn takes the minute sit you both up and move you up the bed, allowing you to rest your head on the pillows while he lines himself up again, bringing your legs up and pressing them so your thighs are gathered to your chest.

When he pushes in this time, it’s a snug fit that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, hands reaching to grab his thighs, squeezing as he starts to move. “Fuck me deeper,” you say, encouraging him.

He nods, puffing out his chest a little. He’s looking right at you, curls hanging from his head necklace dangling as he leans down, pushing your legs apart but letting your calves rest on his shoulders as he presses in deeper. His hands come up to brush hair out of your face before he cups your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in for an intense, open mouthed kiss. One that makes you feel dizzy as his tongue teases at your lips.

You groan when he pushes in again and hits that sweet spot inside you, shivering under him and whining into his mouth when another orgasm washes over you without warning.

He hisses as you clench around him. “Yes honey, squeeze my cock, make a fucking mess for me.”

His words have you spiraling into another orgasm, shaking against him as his fingers snake between you both, rubbing at your clit to keep you going.

You’re shaking, and Shawn’s fighting against the vice grip you have on his cock, pushing into you over and over, moaning, and you can tell he’s going to come.

“Baby, I-” He starts to say, body shaking, and you shake your head.

“No Shawn, not yet.” You say, and he groans out of frustration, slowing his pace down. You push at his hips until he pulls out of you, and he sighs, sitting back on his haunches and clearly trying his best to restrain himself for you.

This is the third time you’ve edged him tonight, and you can tell he’s getting restless. You lick two fingers before rubbing them on your sensitive clit, looking Shawn right in the eyes as he tries to regain his breathing.

“Stroke yourself for me,” you tell him. You can tell he’s only half listening by the way he’s looking at you sprawled out on the bed under him, his eyes roaming your body, you rubbing your swollen cunt from where he’s fucked you so well.

“Stroke yourself for me,” you say again, “and when you get ready to come, I want you to put your cock inside me and fuck your come into me.”

“Fuck.” He says, hands flying to his cock. “What’s gotten into you, baby?”

“Do as I say baby,” you coo, scratching your nails on his thighs. He shudders, body arching backwards as he starts to pant. You dip one finger into your cunt, and Shawn lets out an animalistic noise, eyes focused on your movements. You moan, can feel yourself getting closer, but you’re trying to hold off for him. You want him to come inside you, but you only want to come when he’s inside you.

“Please baby, can I please come?” He asks

You nod, beckoning him forward with a wag of your finger. “Yes you can, you’ve been so good for me. Come inside me Shawn, come for me.” He lets out a sigh of relief and strokes his cock a few more times before he’s suddenly surging forward, batting your hand out of the way as he pushes in to the hilt, moving his hips as he fucks you.

You wrap your legs around him as he falls onto you, careful not to crush you under his weight. His pubic bone brushes against your clit and you lose it, coming with a cry from underneath him, nails scratching down his back as he pushes his cock deep inside of you, and you can feel the pulse of it as he comes. You can feel some of it trickling out of you as Shawn fills you to the brim.

You both laugh a little when things have calmed down and the intensity in the room is no longer suffocating the both of you. Shawn rolls you both on your sides, careful to keep himself inside you for just a little longer.

Shawn holds you close, tucking you under his chin and pressing gentle kisses to your hair as his hands wander up the naked skin of your back. “I never want to lose that again.” He says.

You don’t respond, and Shawn must think you’ve fallen asleep, because then he says. “I love you. I never stopped.”

“Do you really?” You whisper. Shawn pulls back, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I know you don’t believe me. But I can prove it to you. Stay the night, let me make you breakfast, okay? I promise you. If you give me the chance, I can make this better.”

You don’t want to alarm him, want to grant him this one last night of satisfaction, so you say “Waffles?”

He laughs, kissing you soundly on the mouth one more time. “Waffles,” he agrees against your lips, and you allow yourself to be happy, allow yourself to be present with him, and that last shred of happiness you’ve both been clinging to hangs between you as sleep consumes you both.

You wake up before Shawn does the next morning to the sun barely creeping over the horizon. He’s completely knocked out, his hands reaching for you even in his sleep, reaching towards where you managed to roll away from him and take the blankets with you.

You sigh to yourself, head pounding with regret as you slowly begin to collect your clothes, putting them on and grabbing your things from where you left them at his apartment. You clear every trace of you that he might cling to, making sure you’re erasing the fact that you were even there. You pick up your heels, calling an Uber on your phone before slipping out the door silently, leaving Shawn, and everything you two had, behind.

It’s a fool proof situation. Since you broke up, you changed your phone number, and deleted most of your social media, so he can’t contact you anymore, can’t come running to find you once he wakes to realize that you’re gone.

It’s the perfect one night stand, the perfect goodbye.

**~~~**

You’re relaxing on your couch with a bowl of popcorn in your lap as “Prisoner of Azkaban” plays on TV, and your best friend comes into the living room from your kitchen, brows furrowed in concern.

She’s staring at her phone, one earbud in, the other hanging when she finally looks at you and says “uh…do you remember three months ago when you told me about your last night with Shawn?”

You look at her like she’s lost her mind. “Yes. Why are you bringing it up?”

She laughs, then hands you her phone. “You need to listen to this.”

You recognize instantly the music style that can only be Shawn’s. Nostalgia floods you as you begin to listen to his voice sing longingly, and at first, his words make you feel nothing. He’s clearly not talking about you.

Until he is.

**_“And I thought you really felt this_  
** When we were talking about breakfast  
You made it seem like we connected  
I guess I just didn’t expect this 

****_How could you make me believe?  
That there was something in between you and me, yeah  
I look around and I don’t see you_

**_Where were you in the morning, baby?_  
** You didn’t leave your number for me  
Left me without a warning, baby  
I said where were you in the morning, baby? 

**_And how do you, how do you just walk away?”_ **

You laugh to yourself, taking the earphones out and handing your friend her phone back.

“So?” She asks, and you shrug, turning back to the movie and grabbing another handful of popcorn.

“So what?” You say. Because of course he would. Of course he’d do that - call to you through a song, try to plead his case.

Your friend whistles. “Wow. You really are over him, aren’t you? Fucked all your feelings out that one last time?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her as she laughs then retreats back to the kitchen.

It’s true - you are over him. As bad as you felt the following day about leaving Shawn, you knew it didn’t matter. Like your mother said, you were not expendable, and if any man thought you were, you weren’t going to just sit by and let it happen. You were going to make him regret it, and make it hurt like hell.

This was the only way you could do it, and it worked. You were over him, and clearly, Shawn was hurting.

 _ **Good**_ , you think.  _ **Maybe now he knows how it feels.**_

The longer his words rest in your mind, the more you start to question yourself. Part of you debates calling him, but in the end you think better of it.

You moved on, and he should do the same. Shawn was a fool if he thought he could just cheat on you and win you back with one night of sex. No man was worth that kind of trouble. Clearly Shawn just needed a little reminding that you weren’t expendable, that he couldn’t just play with you then take you back when he felt like it.

No, he needed to understand, and hopefully now he did.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.


End file.
